It certainly has been a busy two weeks since I last checked in. There is so much going on that it’s hard to even keep it all straight and try to catalog it. That’s just life in San Francisco.

In some ways, the past week has been trying: I came down with a pretty bad cold for a few days and had to deal with it while putting out the most recent paper.

Then, there was the small matter of a dismembered body found in a suitcase across the street from my current apartment–the police caught the guy but have now been forced to release him. This has been more of a nervous joke than a serious concern–we’re pretty certain the only reason for selecting the location was the Goodwill across the street–just another part of living in a major metropolis where weird things happen on a daily basis.

San Francisco also made the news for having its driest January on record, which has meant a month of sunshine and lovely days but will come to a close tomorrow with my first big storm (or rain of any kind in SF) forecast at 100 percent.

Finally, there was the news from home today that our cat Permelia came down with a sudden illness and had to be put to sleep. It’s hard to believe that it’s been only a few weeks since I made my post about how leaving home would inevitably mean facing difficult changes, and how quickly it’s happened, on one hand, but how distant it all seems on the other.

All in all, each of these things has seemed to reflect a sort of balance.

The illness–inevitable when working in close proximity to a hospital and riding public transportation everyday, but I wouldn’t trade the job opportunity and the peace of mind it’s brought for any number of sick days as a teacher. And though it happened at a busy time, it also gave me a good reason to rest, recalibrate and save a little on dining expenses.

The murder–well, it’s hard to put a silver lining on and not seem callous, but I am moving this weekend to a much nicer (and safer) apartment (more below). And I got to walk in the shot of a news camera the next day.

The storm–will make my upcoming move a bit of a pain, but we definitely need the rain.

As for Permelia, perhaps it will sink in more, but I feel like I already said my goodbye. It seems like part of a greater plan, particularly since this was the cat that came wandering up to our doorstep a short time after we’d had to put down our last one. I looked not too long ago at the picture (in a previous post) of her sticking her head out of a Christmas wreath, and I now recognize that I’d be missing her whirring around the house either way.

And yet, in spite of all the reasons to be down I have been very happy, and the changes and challenges that may yet come seem a necessary part of keeping things from becoming routine and falling into a rut.

The Palace of Fine Arts

–Here begins the uplifting part of the post–

The day after my adventure in Golden Gate Park, I went to yet another beautiful landmark, the Palace of Fine Arts, on a gorgeous day. It was a picturesque scene that normally would be difficult to top, but not in San Francisco. So, after a relatively routine work week, I went out exploring again the following Saturday. The temperatures that day got into the 70s. After making my morning phone calls (to wish mom a happy birthday and catch up with Grandma Elizabeth), I went out with only a rough idea of what I wanted to cover before meeting up with Matt & co. to see the UVA-Duke basketball game at an alumni gathering at The Brick Yard (a bar very reminiscent of the Corner, then going to the UCSF formal.

Much to my surprise, I covered more ground than expected that Saturday afternoon. While looking for somewhere to eat on Haight Street, I stumbled onto Yerba Buena Park, which offered a moderate hike up to the top of a large hill and a decent view of the city (being fairly centrally located) though it was obscured some by the tree cover. What mainly caught my eye at the top, though, was an even better view from a nearby summit, Corona Heights. So, I made my way down one mountain and climbed another (or large hill at least) for another stunning view, this one unobscured by trees.

Victorian Jewel Box – Home of Rudolph Valentino

One of the things I like, in addition to all the wonderful, sweeping vistas, is just walking around the neighborhoods, each one of which has a different character and seems like it might be a hidden gem but for the fact that many people already know about it. The Ashbury Heights neighborhood connecting the two parks seemed almost tucked away, hidden from the busier parts of the city like a little suburb with one-lane, windy cul-de-sacs. The houses gave off a feeling of history and opulence, particularly when I came upon a plaque signifying one as Rudolph Valentino’s. I imagined the silent-film star walking the same hike I had, just as the Grateful Dead and Janis Joplin probably did when living on nearby Ashbury.

View from Corona Heights

After my hike up Corona (the payoff being every bit worthwhile) I finally went back down and found my way to a dim sum restaurant (the craving for which I constantly have now) that my Yelp app had pointed me to. Unwittingly, I was walking around another neighborhood that I had been aware of and wanted to see but had no immediate intention of going to: The Castro. This is known as the “gay” part of town, and the flags flying, rainbow crosswalks and vague innuendo of the store names made it obvious. Yet again, it gave off nothing of a big-city, metropolitan vibe that one might expect, feeling more like a neighborhood block where you would see families out walking their dogs. In a manner, it was utterly charming and certainly one of the cleaner parts of town.

Dim sum in the Castro

The restaurant, Mama Ji’s, was also worth the visit. It offered the rare combination of quality and affordability–which tends to be the tradeoff in SF, particularly when potstickers are involved. I dined al fresco, basking in the warmth and satisfied after my strenuous hike to be sitting down. Still situated on a slight incline, it aksi allowed me to perfect my method of dumpling-stabbing since the chopsticks (they don’t generally give silverware) proved futile.

By this time, it was getting close to 3, and I was scheduled to meet up well across town for the game at 4, thereby beginning my busy evening. Unfortunately, the app on my phone that told me which bus to take was not working. Since I knew generally where I was, my best bet, I decided, was to keep walking till I found a train line.

The Golden Hydrant, upper right corner of Dolores Park

On the way, I stumbled onto yet another famous area, Dolores Park, looked over by one of the city’s oldest buildings, the Spanish mission in which they attempted to convert local Indian tribes to Catholicism. I had found my train (the J-line, taking me back to the apartment), but I decided to walk up the hill to find a golden fire hydrant that had been the only one to hold out during the great fire of 1906. While walking up, I became aware of a huge gathering of people in the part of the park not currently under construction. Though I thought it must surely be an event of some kind–a rally or concert–it seems only to have been the weather that brought them out.

A warm day in Dolores Park

After waiting some time and taking in the spectacle of the park, finally the J-line train arrived–but in my rush to board, I caught the one going the wrong direction, realizing my mistake as soon as the doors closed. In the meantime, the one I had meant to catch had come and gone, and the next would be another 20 minutes. With the clock ticking, I decided again to walk. This time, I found myself in the Mission district, which was predominantly Hispanic in years past but has been somewhat “gentrified” and “hipsterized,” giving it the feel of a college town almost.

After such a busy day, the UVA game (a narrow defeat) seemed a bit anticlimactic. Although it was gratifying to see so many alums gathered, it was too crowded to talk to any or even get a drink at the bar. By the time of the UCSF formal, I was utterly exhausted.

The next day, Sunday, was a bit more relaxed, with the exception of the Super Bowl. After sleeping in, I spent the mid-day on the boutiquey Hayes Street, where I had a relaxing patio lunch and did some reading in a small park. I’d made tentative plans to meet the usual crowd at a cantina on Third Street, near my new soon-to-be apartment. Unfortunately, they were delayed and the crowd was such that I decided to head home and stream the game in comfort. Like the UVA game, it proved a disheartening loss at the last minute as I was rooting for the Seahawks.

Already on Sunday night, I felt the slight tinges of a cold coming on, and by Monday it was full-blown, but I was too busy getting the paper out to rest. Ironically, I was one of only two in the office as several others were away on other business and personal matters.

Joyce Carol Oates at City Lights

On Tuesday, I decided to go to the famous Beat mecca, City Lights Bookstore, where I had seen advertised (while out and about the previous Friday) that Joyce Carol Oates was giving a reading. I still remembered reading her “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been” in high school and relished the opportunity to absorb a bit more high-minded culture. Though the reading room was already pretty full when I arrived, I somehow lucked out and got a stool near the front. The reading itself was a bit tedious (imagining the type of girl Tawana Brawley might have been had it not been a hoax), but it was still great just sitting in such an important literary locale and being part of something noteworthy. Oates herself, currently doing a teaching stint at Stanford, seemed timid and mousy almost. Although I wanted to meet her, I did not want to buy the book, so I left, satisfied with the experience. A New Orleans-style street band was playing outside, and I was drawn to walk by and found a restaurant serving Pittsburgh-style sandwiches.

When I finished eating, I walked back down the block, only to catch Joyce Carol Oates on her way out of City Lights. The temptation being too great, I asked her to pose with me for a selfie, and she coyly indulged.

Selfie w. Joyce Carol Oates

Wednesday was a day of rest and recovery, which takes us to tonight. I went to sign my lease at the new place, exhausted already from the weight of the week, but walking around the neighborhood, couldn’t help but be uplifted again by the great situation I’d stumbled onto. The area I am moving to does not have the same sort of suburban or community feel as others–a few blocks away from the bustling FiDi in one direction and the Bay and ballpark in the other, it is one of the most dynamic growth areas currently, full of tech startup companies. Yet, I was able to find my bank, a post office, a dry cleaner and grocery store–pretty much all I need–in a few safe blocks, not to mention a ton of great bars and restaurants to hang out in.

The apartment itself will also be a good situation–well maintained and comfortable, while still being old enough to be in a reasonable manageable price margin. Though it lacks the centrality of the current spot, it is still very convenient to the train lines I need for work and nearer to a lot of the action.

I am very encouraged by what lies ahead, for better or worse. Though the challenges will come (including getting the new place set up and a big funding presentation at work on Tuesday), there is a pervading sense that all is right and will somehow fall into place in the end. Even when things don’t work out, in San Francisco you always know something else new and beautiful and exciting is right around the corner.

There is a certain sadness accompanying the fact that you only get to experience something once with new eyes. After that, it becomes ordinary and commonplace.

I’ve wanted to parcel out my exploration some in order to make the newness of San Francisco last as long as possible, but having ventured today to the western part of town (known for many years in SF history as the “outside lands“) in Golden Gate Park and Ocean Beach, I have some comfort in knowing that there remains plenty left to explore and that it’s not likely to become dull anytime.

I’ve seen many of the great urban green-spaces in Europe (and some great ones here at home), but nothing quite like Golden Gate Park. As Gary Kamiya (author of the “Cool, Gray City of Love” book I am reading) notes, it took him decades to really begin thinking he knew the park. And indeed, while incorporating many of the elements of other world-famous parks, it is wholly unique in some aspects. (Read more on the park history here.)

Some parts of it (like the deYoung museum and the pavilion where a World Expo once was held) have high tourist traffic and an almost carnival-like feel with fountains and random monuments scattered around. Other parts are largely public, recreational spaces, reminiscent to me of Regent’s Park in London, where the city goes to play soccer or tennis or Frisbee, or where the hippies go to drink and smoke pot. But remarkably, a significant portion of the park remains wilderness with hidden trails leading to almost primordial-looking grottoes for quiet reflection and solitude (save the occasional passer-by).

I approached the park from the southeast corner, taking my usual route to work on the N-Judah line. The first thing I encountered was Hippie Hill, which abuts Haight Street. Apart from a few guys playing bongos, though, I was a bit disappointed by the lack of hippies. I had imagined arriving to find some sort of time warp to the SF of the Sixties with flower children frolicking around the fields. There were also a ton of tennis courts nearby (which I hope to take advantage of at some point, though they were very crowded today).

As I kept walking, I passed a few botanical gardens and could hear what sounded like some sort of event going on in the northern part of the park with lots of cheering. However, I was mainly seeking a nice spot for reading and reflecting. I found one on top of a hill, but someone was playing 90s hip-hop not far away and it was hard to concentrate.

As I kept walking, I approached the de Young Museum and went in for a view from their panoramic observation tower.

View of Sutro Tower and Parnassus (including UCSF) from the deYoung museum

Since it’s hard to go anywhere in SF without stumbling on a remarkable view of something, I didn’t spend a lot of time, but did enjoy seeing the UCSF hospital looming in the south.

I decided to forgo the museum exhibitions because of 1) the $30 ticket cost (I can get in free if I go with a member, some of whom I happen to know); 2) the fact that Keith Haring’s art does not particularly interest me; and 3) I was itching to get out and explore more of the park with the day already winding down.

It was a good decision as I found myself approaching Stow Lake, where people were paddle-boating around the in the shimmering mid-afternoon sun. I kept walking until I was able to cross over to the island in the lake where Strawberry Hill is located. After making my way past a waterfall to the top, I finally found the quiet place I had sought to stop and read up on the park’s history in my book. Not only was it a peaceful spot with picnickers and another great view (see below), but a trio of musicians was playing some wonderful ambient music that ranged from Civil War ballads to Train and the Lumineers on guitar, accordion, violin (or maybe cello–forgive me, Drew) and what seemed like it might have been a melodica.

I remained on the hill for a while, reading and enjoying the music, but with evening closing in, it was getting cold and I found myself getting hungry. I made my way down the hill and started the challenge of trying to find the path back to civilization. There were a few detours along the way. Walking around the lake and northward to exit the park into the Richmond district, I stumbled on another waterfall with a large cross at the top. I found my way to the top and caught it in the perfect light.

Artist painting the scene at Stow lake.

Impressive cross on top of a hill in the park

Finally, after much wandering, I made it out to Fulton Street and north into the Richmond District. This is a largely suburban area with a cool vibe of an emerging hipster scene. While it has been a refuge for much of the Asian population (and a hub for good, low-budget dim sum, which I enjoyed for an astoundingly affordable $11), there were people clustered around a coffee shop on Balboa Ave., and also a record store (a rare sight these days) and movie theater with a 1950s-esque flashing marquee sign.

To get back home, it was necessary to first go catch the 18 bus east to the end of the city and south past the park in order to again catch the N-Judah line (which runs the entire latitudinal span of SF). This presented the opportunity to check yet another sight off my list: Ocean Beach. Another surprise about SF is that it is so much oriented on the eastern (Bay) side that it often seems to ignore the giant ocean to the west. I made it to the beach as the sun was setting, and stunning colors abounded to find it, oddly, somewhat secluded, with only one big group of 20somethings drinking in a group. It was different from the East Coast beaches in many ways, with bonfires and camping, plus it was a lot longer walk and a graffiti-covered embankment that reminded me of the Berlin Wall. The distinct salt-water smell was present, but only faintly so, Yet the ribbons of color on the horizon–seeing the sun set (not rise!) over the ocean was the most impressive part.

Ocean Beach at sunset

It was a remarkable way to cap off the day. I didn’t stay long as I was considering heading downtown to meet with friends, but when I was returning to the bus stop, I noticed there was a Safeway across the street.

Now, to get to the nearest grocery store from the apartment involves walking several blocks through an undesirable area, so instead I decided it would be easiest to do my shopping there and take it back on the train. Overall, it was easier traveling all the way across town with the bags on the Muni than braving the junkie-laced, human-feces-smeared distance between me and the nearest one to the apartment.

That will certainly be one of the benefits of moving to the easternmost part of town, the area known as South Park, which is a block away from the Giants ballpark and convenient to a Safeway (plus a lot safer in general).

On a sidenote, unrelated to my Saturday adventure, I was able to see the UCSF campus at Mission Bay for the first time on Thursday at an open house reception. Like the Outer Lands of the west when they first took root and became more than barren dunes, there are a lot who can still remember the Mission Bay area as nothing more than a big dirt pile. But the new hospital (opening next week), could play a big part in boosting that area. The campus is gorgeous, and its new, top-of-the-line facilities stand in stark contrast to the aging feel of the Parnassus buildings.

Next up on my list: the Palace of Fine Arts, which Matt describes as his version of a West Coast Rotunda. Stay tuned.

Tagged: San Francisco]]>https://bensellers.wordpress.com/2015/01/25/golden-gate-park/feed/0bensellersThe eastern end of Golden Gate ParkView of Sutro Tower and Parnassus (including UCSF) from the deYoung museumIMG_1304IMG_1309IMG_1308Paddlers on Stow LakeArtist painting the scene at Stow lake. Impressive cross on top of a hill in the parkOcean Beach at sunsetOne week downhttps://bensellers.wordpress.com/2015/01/11/one-week-down/
https://bensellers.wordpress.com/2015/01/11/one-week-down/#commentsSun, 11 Jan 2015 20:10:52 +0000http://bensellers.wordpress.com/?p=195Read more One week down]]>It’s hard to believe that only a week ago I was waking up for the first morning in my new (temporary) room. Within the first couple days, with so much happening, it seemed like I’d been here at least a month.

It’s been easier to adjust than I expected, due to the routine of work as well as being able to stay occupied in the downtime, either watching episodes of “Breaking Bad” with my roommate Keith or going out and exploring San Francisco with cousin Drew and his wife, Caitlin, and with my Virginia pal Matt and his friends.

A week ago, I was getting up at 5 a.m. to blog, still on Eastern time, but my sleeping pattern has been remarkably resilient–and without having to worry about the stress of teaching, I haven’t had a need for the Ambien prescription I brought along. Better yet, I finally received some of my boxes from back home, so for the first night I was able to sleep with my fan, my alarm clock and my own bedspread.

Unpacking the boxes brought the first minor touch of homesickness (like unpacking after a visit to Barnesville), but anticipating a return visit made it a bit easier.

Being so connected through various media also helps bridge the gap. As the cold snap hit the East Coast I took much delight in sharing a screenshot of the 60-degree weather here. When Jack countered that he was already off work and getting ready to have a beer while I still had three hours left, I replied that it was a little slow that day, so I might walk out to the terrace and have a look at this (click to see larger image):

The view from 400 Parnassus at UCSF

Great vistas are pretty much everywhere in SF, due to the hills, one of which the Parnassus campus is situated on. The Golden Gate Bridge, of course (at left) is the most iconic sight, but it can also be pretty inspiring looking out onto the lights of the city or (if it isn’t too hazy) the view of Ocean Beach to the west from Drew’s and Caitlin’s house on 15th street.

What also keeps things interesting when walking around is the variety of architecture depending on where you are in the city. The Victorian row houses that SF is known for are everywhere, but the more Spanish influences on the western side of town are impressive too for an East Coaster. Finally, there seem to be hidden places everywhere, where a neat little community will spring up.

I’ve been impressed by Hayes Valley, a redeveloped area a few blocks from the apartment that used to be freeway underpass until the ’89 earthquake damaged it. It has a neat little green space at its center and many boutique-style stores. I also enjoy the Irving Street area just northwest of UCSF, which has some nice bars and restaurants. On Thursday night, Drew, Caitlin and I found a neat place with Cajun-Asian fusion cuisine, and I’m still thinking about the shrimp and sausage boil that they put out on the table in a plastic bag in front of us.

As food goes, I have paid a little more than I would like (I am finally making it to the grocery store today), but it’s been worth it to try so many new things. I’ve probably had some form of potstickers every day since I have been here and went (again with Drew and Caitlin) on Saturday to a restaurant in the Richmond district that specialized in dim sum.

A view of the FiDi skycrapers on a night out with Matt and his Climate Corp. friends

Some of the unique cocktails have also been another weakness. (My favorite place so far is Absithe on Hayes Street, which had a very extensive menu. ) On Friday, I went out with Matt and a group of his work friends in the Financial District to celebrate his birthday and tried several different drink variations.

This newfound cosmopolitanism continued on Saturday (before the dim sum restaurant), when Drew, Caitlin and I went to one of the city’s big art museums, the Legion of Honor. Its biggest claim to fame is a collection of Rodin sculptures, including one of a few original casts of “The Thinker.” It also offered another great view of the Golden Gate Bridge looking eastward from the affluent Sea Cliff area.

“The Thinker” at the Legion of Honor

The only other thing of big note that I needed to mention was my putting the holding deposit on my new apartment, which will be available starting February 6. As much as I have enjoyed the company of my roommates, the opportunity on this 300-foot studio near the Giants’ AT&T ballpark seemed too good to pass on. While $1,800 a month may seem ludicrously expensive for most, this is a bargain for the area. By popular demand, I uploaded some photos of it here: https://flic.kr/s/aHsk7B3MNg.

Today promises to be a little more low-key. My goals are finally getting to the grocery store and post office. But I already have spoken with another Virginia friend, Fionualla, about catching up sometime this week. Another friend, Jason, from The Cavalier Daily, loaned me a book about some of the history of the city. As a way of not getting too complacent, I am going to set a goal of reading at least one chapter and exploring the area it talks about each week. That should keep me busy for the better part of a year, and give me something to talk about with Jason and Matt.

Tagged: San Francisco]]>https://bensellers.wordpress.com/2015/01/11/one-week-down/feed/1bensellersThe view from 400 Parnassus at UCSFIMG_1244"The Thinker" at the Legion of HonorCool Gray City of LoveThe first morning and my short-term furnishingshttps://bensellers.wordpress.com/2015/01/04/the-first-morning-and-my-short-term-furnishings/
https://bensellers.wordpress.com/2015/01/04/the-first-morning-and-my-short-term-furnishings/#commentsSun, 04 Jan 2015 17:50:37 +0000http://bensellers.wordpress.com/?p=176Read more The first morning and my short-term furnishings]]>One of the key reasons for my big move was the feeling that I had become far too sedentary and unmotivated in life back home. I was a creature of habit, but one thing about city life that I am already becoming increasingly aware of is that even the smallest tasks become a little more challenging.

Going to the store means walking a couple blocks and either catching a cab back or being ready to carry what you have past panhandlers and street-urinators (yes, I already encountered my first one yesterday–they say if you see a puddle and it hasn’t been raining, avoid at all costs)—and forget about lugging things like furniture around.

Getting around is simpler in some regards (if you know me, you know I don’t deal well with traffic… or stop signs… or parking spaces…. or curbs…. or other people’s bumpers….), but it takes planning, especially being unfamiliar with the area and the public transportation routes.

Learning to live with roommates again and being respectful of shared space and etiquette is something I’ve done before, but still takes some adjusting.

Fortunately, my sublet is very comfortable. I happened to mention to a friend’s coworker that I was looking and, sure enough, his friend had an open space. The furniture I need is already there, including a very comfortable, queen-size, memory-foam bed. The high ceilings, fireplace and view overlooking Mission Street make me want to stay in here all day and resume my sedentary life. But already, my old, oft-ignored to-do list is filling up with things that need to get done, so I guess it’s time to get going.

Tagged: San Francisco]]>https://bensellers.wordpress.com/2015/01/04/the-first-morning-and-my-short-term-furnishings/feed/1bensellersIMG_1226IMG_1227IMG_1231IMG_1229The first nighthttps://bensellers.wordpress.com/2015/01/04/the-first-night/
https://bensellers.wordpress.com/2015/01/04/the-first-night/#respondSun, 04 Jan 2015 08:34:24 +0000http://bensellers.wordpress.com/?p=170Read more The first night]]>There are many routines and habits I am accustomed to when it comes to sleeping: I like it to be just the right temperature, dark and quiet, but with the right amount of white noise in the background. I always have a fan running for the white noise and an eye-mask handy if the moon is out.

The apartment in San Francisco will turn all of these on their head. Off Mission Street, there is the constant whizzing of cars and the glow of streetlights. But fortunately for me, I have my eye mask and the white noise app on my cell phone to help some, though they don’t begin to drown out the hustle and bustle on the street below. As for temperature, my fan is en route via UPS, set for delivery next week, but I doubt I will need it since there is no central heat in the house and it’s quite drafty. I am sure there will be a lot of adapting to come.

Of course, there is the small matter of time difference, which will also take some adapting. Ironically, I had just gotten onto the perfect East Coast sleep pattern over Winter Break, but with three hours difference, that too goes out the window.

All in all, though, while there are many things that will require getting used to, I relish the new experience and the challenges that lie ahead.

My flight over wound up being very successful–though United offers no frills, it was a much more pleasant experience than the fiasco of USAir in November, where flight delays (leading to a very frustrating missed connecting flight) and lost luggage made me swear off the airline for good.

Goodwill on Mission St.

Unfortunately, I was responsible for my own lost luggage experience today, somehow managing to leave a shirt bag and about 10 good dress shirts on the train from the airport. While I am hopeful they will somehow reappear, I’m realistic about the fact that they probably won’t. On the bright side, the Goodwill store across the street could prove useful.

I am looking forward to getting to know my roommates more in the coming weeks and maintaining a busy schedule, but I’ve got a backup plan, too, of getting caught up on some quality programming, having just watched the first two episodes of “Breaking Bad,” on which I am officially hooked.

Tagged: San Francisco]]>https://bensellers.wordpress.com/2015/01/04/the-first-night/feed/0bensellersGoodwill on Mission St.Pre-flight jittershttps://bensellers.wordpress.com/2015/01/03/pre-flight-jitters/
https://bensellers.wordpress.com/2015/01/03/pre-flight-jitters/#commentsSat, 03 Jan 2015 08:47:16 +0000http://bensellers.wordpress.com/?p=163Read more Pre-flight jitters]]>Winter break has been a busy time, filled with the annual traditions that we so look forward to and the routines that we cling to. But it’s also been a time of great anxiety as the clock ticks down to the big moment, the end of break and the start of a new life. From the moment I locked the door to my classroom and said adieu to North Stafford for the last time, it’s been a roller-coaster ride of acceptance and denials that a major milestone is approaching to upset 10 years of relative comfort and complacency.

Nell hugging her lion toy.

The big day is tomorrow. Everything is in order–as best as it can be. Flights are booked, Clipper Card charged for my arrival, arrangements made for where to stay and where to have my boxes sent. I sold my car on Monday, which was a surprising relief (they offered me enough to cover the debt and then some, thankfully), and canceled my insurance. In short, I have done all the preparing I can.

I spent some time with friends and family also, which was valuable. There were dinners out, movies in, and many things in between. Yet they struggled the same as I did with finding the right way to bring closure when it doesn’t feel like anything has changed yet.

Permelia Higgerson the cat poses with a Christmas wreath for maximum cute effect.

Finally, as I did the last of my packing late this evening, it sank in. It’s my last night in the room I have slept in (on and off) for the better part of a decade. I went through a few old memories–songs and photographs–wondering if they would cease to carry meaning and be inaccessible in this new, faraway place.

Realistically, I tell myself, nothing is coming to an end, that I can go back if I want or need to, but would that only mean going through all this again? And besides, by time I am ready to return to the East Coast, something will have changed; there is no going back.

That’s life, I guess. People face hurt, sadness, discomfort and anxiety every day in the pursuit of their dreams and destinies. Some may never know what it means to be home. I, too, must learn to understand and appreciate that, but I can’t do it by sitting on a couch all day and never venturing far enough from home in the first place.

Tomorrow, my flight leaves Dulles around noon ET and arrives at SFO around 3 p.m. PT. I will then venture my second journey on the BART to try to track down the keys to my sublet apartment, I will have a day to acclimate and unpack, while catching up on a bit of UCSF work, then looking at another (potentially longer term) apartment on Monday morning. Both of the apartment situations seem like decent options for a six-month sublet. Yes, it will be an adjustment without the furniture I am accustomed to having, much less the space and the quality of living.

When I think of what I will miss (such as the cats above), though, I will try to think “What if I didn’t go after this opportunity? What if I were still sitting on that couch right now? What would I be getting ready to do?” The answer would probably be wishing I were somewhere else and looking for more fulfilling job opportunities. Well, here they are.

My new home for the first month or so, living with two other guys above a Chinese restaurant.

In January, I will be embarking on the adventure of a lifetime, moving to San Francisco for a new job as managing editor of Synapse, the student newspaper at UCSF.

My goal in maintaining this blog periodically is simple: keep friends and family back home up-to-date on everything going on. I have no delusions of grandeur regarding a wider audience, but I will try to offer a mix of personal musings with posts of more general interest about life in SF. Simply put, it will be part journal, part travel blog and mostly just a record of my time out west.

For some it might give a chance to live vicariously through my travels out west. And for those already familiar with the Bay area, it may be a chance to re-experience it for the first time again through the eyes of a newcomer. As I become a more savvy and sophisticated SF native, it may grow to be more of an in-depth exploration of the city’s hidden gems, but for now it’s pretty much me discovering the obvious stuff that the natives already know about.

Outside of the Beat Museum in North Beach

For those who don’t know already, my story begins with a trip I took in June/July 2014, which I considered to be my great pilgrimage to some of my high school heroes of the Beat Generation. Between Denver and SF, I managed to cross off a great many site in a few short days and to visit some friends along the way. But when summer ended and the time came to return to my life as high school English teacher with just a few posters as souvenirs, I wasn’t quite satisfied.

It so happened that I stumbled upon a job listing on the UCSF website that was perfect for me. I applied, but quickly wrote it off and forgot about it as something too far away and too far out of my league. Then came the phone call for my first Skype interview. Having courted several interesting job opportunities in the recent past, none of which panned out in the end, I was still cautious and measured in my optimism. But with school about to start anyway, I figured I had nothing to lose in seeing where it went.

I felt pretty good about outlining my multitude of experiences as youth editor for The Free Lance-Star’s it! magazine, my adjunct professor/newspaper adviser job at the University of Mary Washington and my active role as a board member of the Cavalier Daily Alumni Association. Still, those were a far cry from the campus culture of UCSF, a graduate wing of the UC system that mainly provides professional schools in health fields and also scientific research.

As the rounds of interviews progressed, the number of finalists dwindled and I had still made the cut, simply by being myself and emphasizing my well-rounded experiences. While I grew more and more intrigued with the idea, there were still several roadblocks:

1) The school year had begun, and breaking my commitment (and contract) could reflect negatively, as well as put my students (a group that I had already developed strong bonds with) in a difficult spot.

2) The job was only advertised as 75%, and worries abounded that it would not be affordable to live in such an expensive area doing part-time work.

3) While I have traveled a lot, I didn’t know how my friends and family would take it when I told them of such bold move so far away, and in Nancy Pelosi country no less.

When the offer came, though, all of these worries were allayed. They were willing to allow me to work remotely until January while tying up loose ends at North Stafford, planning the move and adjusting psychologically. Moreover, they could make it a 100 percent position when I arrived, at least for the current budget cycle.

I sought the advice of trusted friends and family, and the surprisingly resounding answer was yes. So, I put in my notice at school, and that was that.

The first day of announcing the news was glorious–congratulations all around. Then it was time to tell my students.

Honors 9 students do a selfie with me photobombing.

They were disheartened–“Does anyone else feel empty inside,” one asked–and some simply refused to believe that I was not pulling their leg (as I’ve been known to do), even when I showed my “Facebook official” post.

A few weeks later, it all seems a little anticlimactic. Most people know and have moved on, and yet I am still at school doing business as usual while now balancing some new commitments to produce the UCSF paper. It is hard closing one chapter while opening another at the same time and trying to figure out where my mindset should be.

There are a few hurdles that remain: enrolling in benefits, rolling over retirement accounts, updating addresses, and finding an affordable apartment in a decent, safe, convenient location being the main one. And figuring out how to transport all my stuff across the country, as well as whether to sell my car. And, oh yeah, trying to save money for the move!

On the bright side, I have pretty much mastered the SF public transportation system since my most recent visit (more on that in another post), and I have some promising leads in the apartment hunt now that I am better able to target specific needs, like proximity to the Muni line.

To top it off, the new job is off to a strong start, now that I have met my colleagues and the students I will be working with. I see tremendous untapped growth potential if they will allow me to do my thing. It also promises to be a busy holiday season as I work hard to balance the needs of both jobs.

More stories coming soon on my recent weekend visit, starting with the plane ride from hell (sort of), my first impressions of UCSF, my wanderings around Union Square, Powell and Sutter streets, a visit to a start-up tech mixer at the W Hotel, and late-night foray into North Beach, as well as sunny Saturday explorations in the Embarcadero and Mission Bay areas and a promising lead on an apartment.